


Mind Fuck

by redfenix



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, redshipper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-11
Updated: 2008-05-11
Packaged: 2019-08-07 04:45:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16401554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redfenix/pseuds/redfenix





	Mind Fuck

A thick, smoky haze drifted over the room.  The bright overhead lights bounced on the tendrils of fog, muting their color.  Long shadows were created, providing perfect places to see, but not be seen.   
The hefty, overweight bartender scanned the patrons of the bar, eyeing each skeptically, searching for any signs of drunkenness. But the crowd tonight was fairly calm; he had only had to call the bouncer over once to toss out a customer.   
The piano player sat hunched over the ivory keys, his fingers dancing over the ivory keys to create soft, melodic music.  His perfectly knotted tie would become undone, and a fine sheen of sweat would cover his face by the time the night was through.   
Several different men, each at individual tables, glanced nervously at their watches and craned their necks to check their time with the lounges’ time.  One man drummed his fingers along the tabletop, pausing only occasionally to sip his stirred vodka martini.   
One man sat at the back, hidden by the shadows, nursing his second beer for the night.  He smirked as he watched the other men around the room, fighting to contain their anticipation.  He saw the curtain move slightly and settled himself into a more comfortable position.  The show was about to begin.   
Jean sighed and blew out a big breath of air, trying to relax and settle her nerves.  She always got like this before a show, no matter how long she had been doing them.  She peeked carefully around the curtain and extended her mind out to catch the rambling thoughts of the clientele.   
_When’s this thing going to start…_ _  
Should I have another shot…  
Hawthorne Industries shot up three percent…   
Should I come out to my wife… _  
She chuckled softly to herself, relaxing slightly when she realized it was just the normal crowd as usual.   
Jean smoothed her hands over the dress she was wearing and nodded slightly at the image in the mirror.  A tall, striking redheaded woman reflected back at her, her slender body encased in rich black crushed velvet.  The dress left little to the imagination and gave no room for modesty.   
Someone staring at the dress straight on, thinking the dress simple with its high neck and long sleeves had no inclination of the dramatic twist the dress made when she turned around.   
A large cut-out showed off her narrow back spectacularly, the material meeting together again just over the crack of her bottom.  It was a miracle the dress stayed on her as well as it did.  But thanks to the wonders of double stick tape, no one would see what she didn’t want them to.   
Four inch spike heels completed the outfit; she wore no jewelry, feeling the dress was dramatic enough on its own.  She blew out another relaxing breath and smiled at the stagehand who handed her the microphone.   
He whispered “Break a leg.” to her and held up a single finger, indicated she had one minute until show time.  She extended her mind again, sending calming feelings out into the crowd and felt the tension in the room ease.   
She drew back her thoughts and stepped out onto the stage.   
She blinked her eyes a few times, quickly growing accustomed to the blinding lights and the suffocating haze.  A spattering of applause halted the silence in the room and she nodded her head slightly in thanks, and tipped her head to the piano player, giving him his cue.   
The soft melody began and she closed her eyes, carried along by the music.   
Her husky voice carried over the audience, instantly enrapturing them.  Her song ended a few minutes later and the room could do no more than gawk in surprise at her.  She smiled and pushed a thought into their heads and applause broke the silence.   
She nodded her head and thanked them.  Settling herself on the stool provided, she tilted her head to the piano player again and waited for the next song.   
She changed her voice slightly, adding a rich sexual undertone to her already husky voice.  The men stared at her in fascination, their drinks long forgotten in front of them.   
As she sang about taking a new lover to her bed, she used her telepathic and telekinetic powers in conjunction and pushed with her head, out into the audience.   
A patron sitting at the bar felt her moist warm lips close over his, her silky tongue sliding across his bottom lip, pushing gently to gain entry.  He felt her hands run through their hair, pulling his mouths closer to hers.   
The crescendo of the song approached and she continued singing, moving on to another customer as the previous one groaned at the retreat.  She pushed harder with her mind this time at another man and felt a sigh as the man relaxed into the thoughts in his head, the pressure he now thought he felt on his lips.   
The song ended and she withdrew her touch from his mind, the applause louder this time and she smiled into the crowd.  She signaled to the piano player again and swayed her hips slightly as he changed over to a harsher melody.   
She dove into another mind this time as she sang.  Two customers in the bar gasped together as they all felt her fingers trail down their chests, tickling the skin on their abdomens.   
She sang of begging her lover not to leave her.   
She pushed again with her mind and her hand slid under the waistbands of the customers pants.  She heard a gasp and smiled as one of the customers embarrassed himself.   
This is what they all came for.   
She withdrew her mind and touch as she ended the song.   
She smiled sweetly at the increased applause throughout the room and took a small sip of water from the glass beside her.  She winked at the piano player, and they slowed down the tempo of the evening.   
Again, she began a new song and again, she reached out with her mind.   
One man caught her attention; his ability to block out her psychic touch intrigued her.   
Aren’t you an interesting case, she thought to herself as she began the next section of the song, and pushed harder against his mind.   
With more prodding his psychic barriers fell away, and she laid her lips over his, much in the same way as earlier.   
_Hello Jeannie._   
Startled she broke her psychic contact with the man, and abruptly stopped singing, freezing on the stage.  She was vaguely aware that the piano stopped playing and the audience stared at her silence.   
Faint whisperings trickled through the room, one man coughing as if trying to break her out of her shock.  Elmer, the piano player, rose from his bench and reached over to her, his fingers lightly brushing against her back.   
“You okay?”   
Nervously, she smiled at him and nodded her head.  She reached for her water glass and abruptly set it down again when her hand wouldn’t stop shaking.  She cleared her throat and inhaled deeply, trying to relax herself.   
She nodded her head at Elmer and moistened her lips as the beginning of the song started again.  Clearing her throat, she began the song as nervousness did a long, lazy roll in her stomach.   
She quickly popped off thoughts into a few customers heads and winced as one yelped.  She was letting her nervousness get the best of her, and not controlling her powers well.  She bore down and heard the customer sigh this time.   
Relaxing slightly, she moved on, purposely avoiding one certain customer.  Her song ended and she sipped from her water glass, noticing her hand had calmed finally.   
Glancing at the clock behind the bar, she saw she had ten minutes until she could take a break.   
_Avoiding me?_   
Jean jumped and spilled a few drops of water on her dress.  Elmer glanced at her curiously, but she just simply smiled and nodded her head to start the next song.  She began her next song, and purposefully turned her attentions to her current irritation.   
_Hello Logan._ _  
Interesting gig you got here.  
What are you doing here?   
Drinking, just like everyone else._   
Jean growled silently to herself, continuing on with her song.   _Logan_ _._   
_Cyke know about this?_ _  
That’s none of your business.  
Shouldn’t keep secrets Jeannie.   
Why are you here?_ She repeated forcefully, her frustration starting to become evident in her voice as she sang.   
_Someone told me about a gorgeous red head that sang here that gives a good fuck, didn’t know what they meant ‘til you walk onto the stage._   
She sighed softly to herself, and continued on through the song.   _That what you looking for Logan?  A good fuck?_  
_Here aren’t I?_   
Jean finished her song and sent a dazzling smile out into the crowd.  The roar of applause from the audience startled her and she lost her connection with Logan.  Seething with rage inside, it took all the effort she could muster to gently set her microphone down on the piano.  She nodded her head and bowed slightly, acknowledging the crowd’s approval of her performance.   
She slid carefully past Elmer and barely heard him say “Thirty minutes.” when she disappeared behind the curtain.   
Cold, clammy sweat bloomed over her and she gasped for breath.  Her heart pounded painfully against her chest.  She rested her hand on her chest in an effort to quell the rhythm it was beating against her ribs.   
How did he find her?   
She was always so careful, how did he find out?   
Her chest ached painfully and she struggled to gasp for air.  A stagehand passed by, shooting her strange looks, but continued on without a word.   
Her vision wavered and suddenly the walls felt like they were closing in on her.  Panic gripped her harshly and she struggled to fight her way out of its grasp.  Stumbling, she made her way to the side door and she reached out with her mind and the door open burst open before she crashed through it.  She crashed against the brick wall of the diner behind the cabaret and used her mind to hastily slam the door behind her.   
Large, fat drops of water rained down on her, soaking through her thin velvet dress and sent a sea of goose bumps sliding over her skin.  Her red hair hung in wet clumps and she huddled against the coarse brick, hoping for some warmth.   
The clank of metal startled her and she jumped, scraping her fingers against the brick, drawing blood.  “Wh – Who’s there?” she stuttered out.   
She was greeted with silence.   
Stinging pain welcomed her as the rain slid over the fresh cuts.  Sliding a knuckle in her mouth to help ease the pain, she glanced around the empty ally.   
Another clank of metal, louder and nearer this time, had her whipping her head around.  Wet strips of hair clung to her face, but she dared not move.   
“W – Who’s – the – there?” she stuttered out again, and jumped as one of the trashcans tipped over and fell to the ground with a loud clang.   
A single shorthaired black cat shot out of the felled trashcan and disappeared around the building.   
“Always a goddamn cat, just like in the fucking movies.”  She pushed herself away from the wall and stumbled a few steps before being slammed against the concrete wall next to the door of the cabaret.   
The air was stolen from her lungs and pain exploded behind her eyes.   
“What the fuck are you doing Jean?”  A deep, guttural voice hissed out at her from behind, she recognized it instantly as Logan’s.  Her lungs filled with air and she forced her lungs to work.   
“What?” she managed to sputter out as she fought to control her breathing again.  Turning around, she lifted a hand to push her wet hair out of her eyes and felt her mascara run from the water.   
“Why are you doing it?” Logan felt his voice soften slightly at the sight of her make-up smeared face.  He lifted his hand to her face, but it was quickly slapped out of the way.   
“Don’t touch me.” She hissed vehemently at him.  She pushed harshly with her hip and he backed up a few inches to allow her to turn around.  “How’d you find out?”   
“I followed you.”   
Heat erupted and her temper flared.  “You did what?” She continued on without waiting for his reply.  “How dare you!”   
Her anger was brought up short by the sudden violence that flashed in his eyes.  “How dare I?” he hissed out.  “How dare I?” he repeated and slapped a hand on the wall beside her head, making her jump.   
She could do no more than simply stare at him as his eyes bore through her.  “You’re singing in a cabaret, mind fucking strange men, while your fiancé sits back at the school, probably grading students papers and you say how dare I?”   
Jean simply stared at Logan, at a loss for words for the first time in her life.  She mulled over his words slowly and let them sink in.   
She begrudgingly admitted he was accurate, but was unwilling to let him know he was right.  “Why did you follow me?”   
“Why’d you do it?” he asked, avoiding her question.   
“Why’d you follow me?” she asked more forcefully, deliberately evading his question.   
They stared at each other, not speaking, their tempers both flaring at the frustration from each other.   
Finally Logan spoke.  “Scott asked me to.”   
She started at his response.  “What?” she whispered out, her voice not willing to cooperate suddenly.   
“Why Jean?” Her silence annoyed him, frustrating him further and making his temper flare.  His hands were on her shoulders before he realized it, gripping so tightly that she yelped softly in pain.   
“Dammit Jean, answer me.”  He was able to see through the red haze fogging his vision and stop himself from shaking her slightly as her own eyes glazed over and tears rimmed her eyes.   
The hot, wet tears spilled over her eyes, ruining her make-up even more.  Black streaks of mascara slid slowly down her cheeks.   
“Why?” he asked again, softly this time.   
“I – I didn’t want to – hurt him.” She sniffled as she nose began running.  “Or you.”   
Startled, Logan dropped his hands from her shoulders and stepped back.  Incomprehension crossed his face. “What?  What do you mean me?”   
Suddenly the door to the cabaret shot open and they could hear the stagehands voice pierce through the rain.  “Ten minutes Ms. Grey.”   
Jean pushed Logan against the wall, and stepped around the opened door.  “Thank you Tommy, I’ll be along shortly.”   
The stagehand eyed her suspiciously.  “Everything okay Ms. Grey?”   
“Yes, Tommy it’s fine.  I just needed some air.”  She pushed on the door deliberately in an effort to make Tommy disappear back inside.  The door slid close with a soft clink and she rested her back against the cool metal. “Go home Logan.” She whispered.   
He stood unmoving, watching her.  Frustrated, she sighed and pushed herself away from the door.  She pulled open the door with more force than necessary and Logan moved to jumped out of the way before it hit him.  The door caught him lightly on the shoulder before meeting the concrete wall with a bang.   
She disappeared into the cabaret, the door slamming shut loudly behind her.   _Go home Logan_. Her voice slid softly but firmly in his head.   
He slipped silently out of the alley.   
  
Jean slid the warmed wash cloth over her face.  The dark streaks of mascara were transferred to the washcloth, the dark black a striking contrast to the white cotton.  After removing the makeup, she saw her eyes were red and puffy.  Her face streaked and blotchy from crying.   
“Five minutes!” Tommy yelled through the door.   
She sighed and realized there was nothing she could do about it now; she didn’t even have time to put on fresh make-up.  Tossing the ruined cloth down on the table, she stepped back from the mirror and stripped off the soaking velvet.   
She tossed the damaged cloth into the corner, disgusted that she had devastated her favorite dress.  She reached over and pulled the emerald green cocktail dress she kept in her dressing room’s closet for emergencies out and slid it on.   
The green silk matched her eyes perfectly and made a striking contrast against her damp, red hair.  She ran a wide-tooth comb hastily through her hair and wove it into a French braid as she made her way to the stage.   
She paused for a moment to catch her breath and exhaled sharply before stepping through the curtain.  A scattering of applause spread through the cabaret and she smiled slightly as she made her way to the other side of the piano.   
Jean cleared her throat nervously and quickly scanned the audience.  The white stage lights above her made it impossible to see more than dark shapes, and she gave up looking for Logan.   
Hopefully he had followed her advice and gotten the hell out of here.   
She nodded to Elmer and he hunched over and began playing his hands over the keys.  She reached out with her mind, and scanned the audience psychically.  With a sigh of relief, she realized that she couldn’t pick up Logan’s mind anywhere near the cabaret.   
But he blocked you before, she reminded herself.   
With a start, she realized that she had missed her cue.  She glanced over and shrugged her shoulders slightly at Elmer, and sighed to herself when she recognized that he’d restarted the song seamlessly.   
Her cue came and she hit it this time, and began her song.  She gently probed a few of the audience member’s minds, unwilling to push after earlier, casually dropping soft kisses on cheeks, nothing more.   
A few men groaned in displeasure, the second half of her act was usually steamier.  More seductive.   
Her nerves were shot thanks to Logan.  How could she have been so stupid?  She suddenly loses her nerve just because she started to lay everything out on the line?   
Determination set in deeper, and she started slipping into the crowd’s mind further, going deeper.  Plucking at parts of the brain she knew would arouse.   
Almost the entire group of men sighed simultaneously as she reached even deeper.  The entire group, except for one.   
_Jean, what are you trying to prove?_   
Her eyes narrowed as she continued her song, steaming straight into the next without pausing, her need to prove something to herself driving her.   
_I told you to leave Logan._   
The group sighed again as she psychically slid a finger along under waistbands, mentally forcing the zippers to part.   
Voice flew at her, and she forced herself to block all but one out.   _You still haven’t answered me._  
She pushed out with her mind to the crowd and a spattering of groans could be heard as they all felt her hand slid over them.   _I don’t owe you anything._   
Logan narrowed his eyes from the back of the room, and replayed the scene earlier in the alley in his head, making sure Jean could see what he was thinking.   _I think you do._   
Each man in the room, with the exception of one again, felt her mouth slide over and engulf them completely.  Her song continued and she slid her hip onto the stool beside her, the strain of the mental connections wearing.   
A few groans slipped through opened mouths, barely heard over her singing.   
_It was a mistake, I’m sorry._ _  
Dammit Jean._ He hissed fiercely back at her.   
_Go away Logan._ _  
No._   
The single, simple word from him slipped into her mind and infuriated her.  She instantly shattered her connections with the men in the audience, and focused her tele-powers solely at Logan.   
He jolted violently as he became viciously aroused, unable to control his own body.  Her hands and mouth seemed everywhere at once and he fought valiantly against her.  She pushed back his efforts with a laugh to herself and continued on with her song more determined than ever.   
More arousal slammed through him, and he let out a gasp of surprise, unaware he was even capable of it.   
He jolted again as an image of Jean laying naked on the piano penetrated his mind.  He saw himself grasp her hips roughly and plunge into her.  A shudder ran through his body and he actually felt himself slam into her as he watched it in his mind.   
Before he could fight back the image, it disappeared and was quickly replaced with an image of himself and Jean standing out in the ally, as they had been earlier.  But this time, her back was pressed up against his chest, her skirt hiked around her waist in the back as he mindlessly pounded himself into her.  Another shudder ran through him as he felt it happening again.   
Despite his efforts to fight against her psychic blasts, to control them, he knew he was no match for her.   
His arousal spiked as the image in his head was replaced with a new one.  This time, she was laid out on the table in front of him, taunting him.   
_C’mon Logan, you know you want to_. She ran her hands along her naked body, stopping slightly to caress her breasts before both her hands disappeared between her legs.   
_Get up Logan.  Come over here and fuck me._   
Her moan filled his head as she arched her back, her hands moving slightly.  She slid one hand from between her legs, and slid it slowly across his lips.   
His arousal spiked higher as he tasted and smelled her muskiness on him as he licked his lips.   
_I’m ready for you Logan._   
Her singing played softly in his ears, and he shook his head, telling himself that this wasn’t real; she was standing on the stage singing to a crowd of men, not laid out on the table in front of him, waiting.   
A hand slid over to the zipper of his jeans and he heard the zipper rip softly as it was slid down. He inhaled sharply as she closed a hand over him, gripping him almost painfully.   
An unseen force pulled him towards her and he shook his head, knowing she was pushing him along but felt himself rise from his seat despite his denial.  She sighed softly and spread her legs, waiting for him.   
His need to have her got the best of him and he slammed himself into her, without a second thought.   
Jean’s cry of surprise only fueled him and the animal that had been laying dormant deep inside him took control.  Seconds before he orgasmed, his mind went black as she withdrew, knowing his control was shattered and he was unable to stop.   
  
His senses slowly came back to him and he found he was panting heavily, sweat beading up along his brow.   
He glanced around and saw he still sat in the booth in the dark corner of the cabaret.  Logan looked down and found his jeans buttoned and in place.  He leaned forward to rest his hands on the empty table in front of him, trying to gain his bearings.   
Lifting his head slowly he saw Jean finishing up her song and bowing slightly to the audience in gratitude.  Her head turned and he saw her eyes were narrowed, staring at him.  The emerald green seemingly piercing right through him.   
_You got what you came for didn’t you? A mind fuck?_   
She turned and disappeared through the curtain.   
_Go home Logan._   
Jean blinked back the tears that where threatening to fall and blindly made her way to the dressing room.  She slammed the door with such force she was sure the force would strip the hinges from their pins.  Dropping herself into her chair, she let the tears flow unabated.   
A rapid knocking on her door a few minutes later had her grimacing.  “Go away Logan.” She called out.   
“Jean.”   
“I said, go away.”   
The door handle clicked and spun.  Dammit, she had forgotten to lock the door.  She scolded herself and quickly jumped up and spun, unwilling to let him see her face.   
Logan stepped carefully into the room and pushed the door closed behind him.  His hands itched to turn her around and wrap his arms around her, hoping to abate the tears she was trying unsuccessfully to cover.   
Instead, he stood where he was, and slipped his hands into his pockets, unsure exactly of what he could, or should, say to her.   
Before he could speak, she was pressed against him, sobbing against his chest.  He closed his eyes, sighed in relief and lifted his arms to embrace her tightly.  He let the storm of tears run their course and when he felt her calm, slid a finger under her chin and lifted her face up.   
“I’m sorry.” She murmured, knowing her actions had been uncalled for. “I –“   
He cut off her words by laying his lips against hers.  Certain no words that she could say would remotely cover how she felt.  Not even begin to fully explain the events earlier.   
Jean pulled away and looked at him, puzzled.   
A wide smile spread over Logan's mouth, lighting his eyes.  He reached down and pressed the lock, closing them off from any outside intruders.  “All you had to do was ask darlin’.”


End file.
